Trouble With Wickham Read online

  “I do wonder what the circumstances were that led to their rapprochement,” Lord Radcliffe said. Charlotte looked up at her father in surprise. It was never his habit to engage in the type of neighborhood gossip that the ladies fed on; however, it was not lost on her that even he was unable to resist a growing curiosity as to the circumstances that led Fitzwilliam Darcy, one of England’s richest men, to form a union with Elizabeth Bennet who, while a fine young woman and good friend to Charlotte, was a simple country girl with neither wealth nor connections equal to her husband’s.

  “Mark my words there is a mystery to their union that no one has yet been able to decipher,” Lady Radcliffe pointed out. “Perhaps if we are lucky Lady Catherine will provide the missing background details to their courtship. Which reminds me—I have had the most curious letter from her. Pray listen while I read it.” She pulled a letter bearing the seal of Lady Catherine from amongst her pile.

  The Right Hon. Lord Radcliffe,

  I am delighted to reiterate our acceptance of your offer to attend the hunting party at Bennington Park. My daughter Anne and I will arrive at approximately fifteen hundred hours on the third of November, per your invitation.

  I will not ride to the hunt; neither will my daughter. Nevertheless, I am anxious to attend and I welcome the opportunity to be the model of Christian forgiveness to my nephew Fitzwilliam, whose marriage to his unfortunate new wife does not please me.

  The visit will afford me the opportunity to demonstrate that I bear no grudge against that girl and forgive her for appropriating my nephew’s affections and properties for herself, both of which were intended for my beloved daughter Anne. My daughter has suffered terribly from the loss of his affections yet, admirably, is also anxious to display her capacity toward forgiveness to her cousin and his new wife.

  I am your obedient servant,

  Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  Post Script: Anne’s delicate constitution requires that she eat a generous portion of smoked codfish for breakfast. I hope this concession to her digestive system will not inconvenience your staff.

  Lady Radcliffe folded the letter. A look of consternation appeared upon Lord Radcliffe’s face.

  “Well, my dear Charlotte, I hope this Mr. Darcy is as amiable as you say he now is, for I do remember his dire looks and curled lip from when he graced us with his appearance at the Meryton Assembly last year,” he said. “Add to that the knowledge that he has offended his aunt in some way, there seems to be very little to recommend him to our company.”

  He wrinkled his forehead, momentarily lost in thought, then his mood lightened as he ventured to say, “Although if your friend Elizabeth Bennet attests that the man does soften upon further acquaintance then I am willing to wager that he will most likely be a splendid houseguest!”

  Lady Radcliffe was excited at the prospect of entertaining the new young couple. “I for one am most anxious to see this Mr. Darcy again,” she said. “As he is not a native of Hertfordshire there is very little known about the man. Although you can be sure that Mr. and Mrs. Bennett are more than pleased at his falling hopelessly in love with their own Elizabeth. Oh, I am sure that whatever rift exists between the parties they will discharge it immediately. Lady Catherine is all grace and Elizabeth has always had a reputation as a respectful girl.”

  Charlotte had an immediate distrust of Lady Catherine’s notion that the hunting party was the perfect place to mend her fractured family. However, she easily brushed off her own doubts, acceding instead to the good judgment of her mother, who had years of experience in the art of hosting a variety of friends and relations, some on good terms and some not. If Lady Radcliffe did not blink at the prospect of Lady Catherine’s expressed intentions, then Charlotte would not either. She bit her lip and said nothing, merely adding the request for smoked codfish to the notes to hand off to the housekeeper Mrs. Holmes, who suddenly appeared at the library doorway, waiting patiently to be acknowledged.

  “Excuse me, my lord.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Holmes,” Lord Radcliffe said.

  “A letter has arrived,” she announced. Mrs. Holmes walked softly across the room and handed the letter to Lady Radcliffe.

  “Thank you Mrs. Holmes.”

  She examined the letter’s seal and announced, “It is from Pemberley.”

  “Oh no, does Elizabeth cancel?” Charlotte exclaimed. She suddenly realized that a very dull hunting party loomed before her were Elizabeth not in attendance.

  Lady Radcliffe unfolded the letter and her eyes darted quickly across the page. Her husband and daughter waited anxiously to hear its contents.

  A relieved smile spread across Lady Radcliffe’s face. “No, instead Mr. Darcy writes to inquire if he would be allowed the imposition of bringing his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy, along with them. Here is what he says:

  As my sister’s guardian I am uncomfortable leaving her unattended at Pemberley and, selfishly, believe that my stay at Bennington Park would be much enhanced knowing that she was under the same roof.”

  “That is fine,” Lord Radcliffe decided quickly. “Our bedrooms are here to be filled up and our guests’ peace of mind is, as always, our top priority,” he said, displaying his typical generosity. Lady Radcliffe motioned to Charlotte to add Georgiana’s name to the guest list and Charlotte did as requested.

  “Charlotte what do you know of this Miss Georgiana?” her father inquired. “Lady Catherine did not mention her existence to us during our visit.”

  Charlotte tried to remember if Elizabeth had mentioned Mr. Darcy’s sister in any previous communications but failed to recall such an exchange. Inwardly Charlotte acknowledged to herself that both she and Elizabeth were both preoccupied with their own lives lately, and that their correspondence was solely focused on their own thoughts and feelings and not at all on the actions of their family relations.

  Lord Radcliffe, meanwhile, was pondering the logistics of preparing for the arrival of Miss Darcy. “What is her age? No one knows? I imagine she must be quite a bit younger than Mr. Darcy if he feels she cannot be left without his chaperoning,” he mused.

  Upon hearing this speculation Lady Radcliffe perked up her ears.

  “Oh my! You must be right dear! How splendid to have a young child running around our corridors again! It will transport me back to those wonderful days when you were all young, and living at home with me, and not settled so far away!” she said wistfully. “I will ask Mrs. Holmes to air out the nursery, and lay the quilt with the embroidered ducklings on the bed, and Quigley in the stables must dig out the small saddle for the ponies. You can ride Indigo and Georgiana can take the pony out on the woodland trails, Charlotte, like you used to do yourself years ago. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  “Maybe, Mamma. We will see,” Charlotte replied, in a noncommittal tone. She had little interest in entertaining a child. However, she was determined to do the best that she could to make Miss Darcy’s stay comfortable. “Should I suggest cinnamon sticks instead of lavender to scent the room?”

  “Yes, splendid!” her mother agreed. “And he does not say whether the child’s governess will accompany them, but we must prepare for that possibility, so have Mrs. Holmes air out your old governess’s room as well. As the room is connected to the nursery we should lay cinnamon sticks in there too, as you are right that lavender is a strong scent that a young child may not like.”

  Pleased with the pending accommodations, Lady Radcliffe continued.

  “As for the rest of the company, Lady Catherine must be given the south suite all to herself. Write that down next to her name.”

  “But Mamma, Guy and I have been happy in the south suite since we arrived,” Charlotte protested.

  “You and Guy can move into your old room while the company is here. One makes this sort of sacrifice for one’s guests.”

  Charlotte frowned, but her father corrected her.

  “You may be a married woman now Charlotte but you are not beyond our instruction. Your mother
is one of the finest hostesses in Hertfordshire, and you would do well to learn from her example, as her instincts are impeccable.”

  “Oh how I wish your brother Charles could attend! But they are abroad and do not return for a fortnight still,” Lady Radcliffe cried out.

  “We will think fondly of him. Although he is long overdue for a visit home,” her husband replied.

  “Oh thank goodness you are but two hours away by carriage Charlotte. I have never seen such well kept roads as the ones from here to Ludlow Lodge.”

  “The roads are indeed fine, Mamma. Now who else needs to be put on the final list?”

  “Did you write down Mr. and Mrs. Bennet? They replied that Mr. Bennet does not hunt, but will attend for the company and the ball. Apparently Mr. Bennet is quite anxious to explore the library.” Charlotte felt a stab of disappointment for Guy, who was hoping to hide out from the madding crowd, alone in the library, during the festivities.

  “Put the Bennets in the room two down the hall from yours,” Lady Radcliffe instructed her daughter. She then began happily chattering away about her burgeoning friendship with Elizabeth Bennet’s parents.

  “A year ago I would not have thought that I would enjoy their company as I do, as I always thought her manners a little flighty and he a tad sullen but now I am more than happy to include them in our party, as it is but a small repayment for the immense kindness she showed to me after your snub of Buckland. I still remember how Mrs. Bennet came right up to me in the churchyard and congratulated me quite loudly on your having landed Mr. Lancaster for your own! Especially since it was common knowledge that her own Mary had set her cap for our Guy. Mrs. Bennet is really so gracious in the face of defeat. Isn’t it funny how differences in rank seem to fade away when one realizes that kindness is the foundation on which neighborliness is built?”

  “Poor Mary,” Charlotte said. “It was but two dances too many on Guy’s part.”

  Lord Radcliffe, impatient with talk about the Bennets, stood up. “Are we done here now?”

  “Yes. I believe so.”

  “Then let us move into the drawing room for our tea,” he directed.

  Charlotte was more than happy to quit the library for the drawing room where, upon entering, she found Guy situated before the fire, reading, just as she imagined him. Her Pomeranians were curled up on the settee but jumped down excitedly and circled her upon her appearance. She walked to her husband and gently placed a kiss on his forehead, which did its job of drawing Guy away from his book. Guy was happy, as always, to be rejoined by his lovely wife, not only for the pleasure of her companionship, but for the tea that would inevitably be served once the family had assembled. Just then, the sound of pounding boots preceded the entrance into the drawing room of Charlotte’s oldest brother Hugh. He stopped short upon seeing his sister bent tenderly over his best friend.

  “Must there be no end to the constant stream of affection between the two of you?” he complained. Hugh was only half teasing as the marriage of his good friend and his younger sister had been the best of developments.

  “Your day will come brother, and I predict it will be when you least expect it. When it does you will be incapable of doing anything but following your heart’s promptings!” Charlotte said, assuming a wise tone to her voice.

  “I certainly hope that my heart’s prompting does not force me to make a vulgar display in the Meryton assembly rooms as you did. One episode of public humiliation is all the Radcliffe family name can withstand.” Hugh was merciless in teasing his sister and Guy about their scandalous public kiss.

  “I have no doubt that if you were about to lose your woman to an irascible lout as I was, you would behave as badly as I did, or worse,” Guy laughed.

  Hugh tilted his head, feigning surprise. “Until that time I will continue to enjoy the bachelor life, for once married I intend to commit myself fully to the institution, per Guy’s example,” Hugh said.

  Hastings poured hot tea and passed the cups around. Lord Radcliffe took a happy, noisy first slurp of the hot brew. Charlotte, however, held her teacup at arm’s length, examining the rising steam that served as evidence that, as usual, the tea served at Bennington Park was always too hot for immediate consumption.

  As the mistress of Ludlow Lodge, she had requested that all the tea cool in the kitchen for seven minutes before being poured and served. She really wished her parents would adopt the same technique. Perhaps she might suggest it to them at some point over the next few days. After all, she thought to herself, she was now the mistress of a fine home and her input on household issues should count for something.

  “Where were you?” Lady Radcliffe asked her son.

  “In Meryton to pick up my new boots,” he replied, flopping into a nearby chair as Hastings glided over to him with a cup of soothing tea.

  “Thank you my good man,” Hugh smiled at the family retainer. He blew on his hot tea, shook his head and muttered, “Too hot. Oh say have you heard the latest about George Wickham? Now there’s a sorry sod, whose union with Lydia Bennett is the most glaring example of marital disharmony I have ever had the displeasure of witnessing. Based on the amount of time he spends at the Meryton Arms, I would wager to say he avoids his home life like the plague. Convincing the man to go home at closing time is a constant battle.”

  His family let loose a guffaw of laughter. Hugh, much enjoying his possession of the stage, continued gossiping

  “I hear that he has fallen into drink on a regular basis, literally and figuratively, as he took a nasty tumble the other night coming out of the Meryton Arms. Word is he has become even bolder in his risk taking behavior with other women—at least when he is in London, as there is little opportunity to get into such trouble in sleepy Meryton. And, in the short time since he was decommissioned and returned from the north, they have managed to make themselves unwelcome in all the shops by virtue of their unpaid accounts. Suffice it to say that his marriage with Miss Lydia is not a happy one.”

  “But isn’t there a child, now? A son, I believe?” Charlotte asked, knowing she shouldn’t enjoy the feeling of superiority that arose within her whenever Lydia Wickham’s exploits were discussed.

  “Yes, poor thing, locked out of Pemberley so the gossip goes. Darcy will not receive his father so Lydia is barred as well.”

  Lord Radcliffe chuckled. “Sounds like they deserve each other. Well at least she is no threat to becoming the next mistress of Bennington Park, a position that remains unfilled,” he said, staring intently at his eldest son. “Our silver is safe from her!”

  Hugh disregarded his father’s pointed comment about his unattached state and took a slurp of his tea. “Memories of an unattached Lydia Bennet terrify me.”

  “That is indeed the stuff of nightmares,” Charlotte agreed with an unconscious shudder.

  “But no risk to our party, or to the future of Bennington Park, it would seem,” Guy pointed out.

  “One would think that by now consequences would have caught up with the bloke, but Wickham always seems to find fresh territory on which to wreak his havoc. Makes the gentleman in me wonder why I bother acting correctly,” Hugh wondered aloud.

  “Now son, just you wait. Life hasn’t caught up with Wickham, yet, but it is the rare ne’er-do-well that has a happy end. Trust me.”

  Lady Radcliffe cleared her throat and leveled a pointed glance at each member of her family. “I dare say if Lydia and her husband were on our guest list I would hasten to shut down this type of gossip, as the first rule of hospitality is that a hostess does not gossip about her guests, either before they arrive or particularly after they depart. May I remind you, Charlotte and Hugh, how important it is to keep your counsel and resist relaying any intimate details our guests reveal to us when staying under our roof, as you may hear or see things during the hunt that you would be tempted to gossip about, but should be held in confidence and handled with the utmost discretion.”

  Charlotte and Hugh nodded compliantly. Satisfied tha
t she had instructed her children properly in the art of genteel hostessing, Lady Radcliffe redirected the conversation. “So let us think of happier subjects! Hugh did you hear that we are to have a little girl around the house again?” she asked, growing misty eyed.

  Hugh smiled across the room at his sensitive mother. “How wonderful for you Mamma. I certainly hope she is a well behaved little girl and not a shrieker, like the terror that was Lady Mounthill’s child.”

  Charlotte’s hand flew up to cover her mouth, which had fallen open in horror, remembering an earlier hunt that had been overtaken by a former guest’s undisciplined child who was not properly restrained in the nursery. “Oh, brother what a terrible memory you bring up. That horrible child tormented my pups in the worst possible way. The hunt can be a most excruciating few days for my poor Pomeranians, who are simply too agitated by the strange faces and the never-ending braying of the hounds. All my animals are quite attuned to humans and do not suffer foolish ones very well.”

  Lord Radcliffe said, “Now, now, Charlotte, your pups will survive the ordeal, as this is Mr. Darcy’s little sister we are talking about, and he is the last man on earth I would expect to inflict a wild, misbehaving child on us. Your pups can rest easy as we take care to only invite sensible guests into our homes as overnight guests.”

  Hastings distributed moist slices of walnut cake to the party. Lord Radcliffe shifted in his chaise lounge to look out the drawing room window as he took a bite of cake.

  “Thank goodness for all of us the weather has turned clement. I thought after a week of intermittent thunderstorms that the pack and the hounds would be pounding away on soggy grounds but that fear has not been borne out, as by my touch the earth is now firm and dry,” he said.

  “Except for the marsh, which after a week of storms continues to retain an inch or two of standing water, despite all the laborious effort we put into draining it,” Lady Radcliffe fretted, gazing at what she could see of the sky from her perch on the sofa.